by David Sumner

The Yarmouth rally fell on the last day of August, a Saturday. High water at 11.30 am on Friday saw me pushing off from Itchenor in my faithful Mirror, Curlew. The weather was fair with a gentle NW wind, and according to the weatherman, there would be some brisk showers, gradually dying out. Imagine my consternation when 100 yards from the shore and still in amongst the moorings I found myself in choppy sea with the wind F4 and rising. I managed to quickly reduce sail using the mainsail slab reefing, tricky in the confined space, and started to drive towards the entrance of the harbour. The wind continued to rise rapidly, whilst the sky darkened and heavy rain pelted the boat; I hove-to and waited it out. Not a good start to the cruise! The squall moved away and I started to enjoy a broad reach down the harbour under good conditions under reefed mainsail alone. When I arrived at the entrance I would need to carefully go outside and see what conditions were like, giving myself a chance of returning before the ebb set in.

It is a vulnerable feeling leaving Chichester Harbour, because the tide can sweep you out into rough seas with no chance of returning. When I just cleared the land and whilst still in the entrance channel going out to the Bar Beacon another thundery squall came on to me. The wind quickly increased to about 30 knots (touching F7) and all the yachts around me stopped in the water and struggled with wildly flapping canvas. A small gaffer triced up her mainsail and rounded up to weather. I released the sheet and lay-to with the boom held broad-off using the preventer, normally used when running free, the boat perfectly safe and stopped in the water beam-on to the weather. The waves immediately steepened up and arranged themselves in phalanxes like soldiers and the wind drove spray from their tops. All the time the visibility was just 100 yards due to the lashing rain. Overhead the cloud seemed to rip as lightning went across the sky. But soon it passed, the storm cloud drifting away across the Solent to find someone else to annoy.

I was by now quite concerned about the weather conditions and, with some difficulty, because the ebb was now running, I returned to the beach at Hayling Island Sailing Club to have lunch and to consider the next move. I had wasted a lot of time and tide, and had to decide whether to continue, with the risk of further squalls, or return to the safety of Itchenor. After wasting even more time on indecision, I eventually decided to set out again (at 15.00) and try to reach Wootton as planned for an overnight stop, with a fallback to Langstone or Bembridge. The wind was now quite gentle in the entrance but a moderate swell was running as I passed the Bar Beacon and the West Pole. It was very clear with unlimited visibility and bright sunshine, and I could see all the forts and Fawley chimney in the distance.

The wind picked up to a steady F4 NW and I was able to hang on to full sail, driving the boat hard towards the Horse Sand Fort - I was short of favourable tide now. Some of the waves pounded under the hull and I started to ease her over the bigger ones. Spray burst high into the air but little water came aboard. As I closed the Fort I hauled up the radar reflector, as the shipping lane passes here, but no sooner was it up than the little halyard, which is in a continuous loop, wrapped itself around the main halyard due to the wind and motion of the boat. This spelt danger, as it might stop me lowering the mainsail in an emergency, and I immediately took my knife and cut the radar halyard free and pulled it down. Then I noticed a large rainstorm over Portsmouth and as it drifted nearer I could see that it was very intense, and at one edge it almost had the look of a waterspout, but I decided this was just an intense rain cell. The sea beneath the squall was smoking and covered in a layer of mist about a yard high, but I could see no lightning and I thought the storm would be just heavy rain without exceptionally strong winds.

How wrong can you be? Suddenly, a gust of immense power took the boat. At once I released the mainsheet and hiked for all I was worth, but I could not reach the jib sheet. The boat immediately bore away and gathered speed. I put the helm down but to little avail; I was now standing up with the water of the Solent rushing past at my feet. I thought of the squalls that occasionally capsize whole fleets of racing dinghies - my efforts to save the boat from capsize seemed puny - the power of the wind was just immense. I managed to get hold of the jib sheet and let it go, whereupon the jib just went crazy, lashing around in the wind. But the heeling was reduced, and I was now able to lie along the weather deck and reach across to the mast, where I freed the halyards, and the sails came straight down. The mainsail fell into its lazy jacks (unfortunately causing the gaff to split, where it fell on to the boom) and the jib fell half into the sea. Never mind, the boat steadied and was out of danger. Gradually the wind reduced a little and soon I was able to set the jib alone once again and press ahead once more on a fast beam reach.

The storm was of such size that it seemed to disturb the wind flow of the whole area, and soon I was becalmed between the Forts, right in the shipping lane. As the tide was turning foul I decided to pull for the Island shore. My goal was now Bembridge, but I had visions of being swept out past the Nab by the fast eastgoing flood. I rowed for about 45 minutes, using the small compass on my chart board to keep a straight course as there were few landmarks within view over the stern. Tiredness was really starting to affect me, and it was a real relief when a zephyr began to lift me towards Bembridge entrance. Everything was quiet now and the sea calm, such a change from the squalls I had encountered. Soon I came up with Saint Helens Fort and Tide Gauge, and, after re-reading the pilot book about the entrance channel, started picking my way from buoy to buoy. In no time I was near the beach outside the entrance, and the peace was just overwhelming. The voices of children playing on the beach rang across the water, and a pair of swans flew low overhead, heading for the same haven as I was for the night. Once inside the harbour, I had to dedicate my attention to explaining dinghy cruising to a man and his little girl, who walked along the shore next to me, and then I pulled up on the sandy beach at 19.30. It had been a 4 1/2 hour crossing and I felt all-in. As soon as possible I adjourned to the Pilot Inn for a long drink and a good meal. Next day I still felt tired and decided to go back rather than continue to Yarmouth. I crept out of the harbour at 13.30 at about half ebb in a fickle breeze and took my departure from St Helens Fort at 14.00. The wind having settled to F2, SSW, I set a course of 030 deg M, on which I could comfortably goosewing towards Langstone Entrance with the jib poled out. This course would take me across the shipping lane at right angles, and I would then alter course to 060 M towards Chichester. I tied the radar reflector to the shrouds just 3 feet above the deck in the hope that it would help ships to see me, and I am sure it helped, because I passed three ships on the way across and they all seemed to keep well clear. Once clear of the shipping lane I steered 060 deg M towards Chichester. Progressively, the wind built up as I left the shelter of the Island, and when 3 miles from Bembridge it had reached the top of F3 and, as the boat was rolling somewhat with the heavy swell, I dropped the jib. At 3 1/2 miles from Bembridge I found it necessary to bring the boat up to the weather and reef the mainsail. And at 4 miles from Bembridge, with the wind at F5 I dropped the mainsail and continued under poled out jib alone, mainly with the idea of delaying my arrival until the flood had started. The waves were gradually becoming higher, and I was concerned about conditions at Chichester Bar as the wind had quite a lot of South in it. The pilot book is severe in its warnings about Chichester entrance in a Southerly wind, especially during the ebb. (Apparently not quite as bad as Rye Harbour, about which Hillaire Belloc writes in The Cruise of the Nona “Any man making Rye Haven must first resign himself to the will of God”!).

I was ready to turn back at any moment. As I closed the West Pole Beacon, the seaward mark, the waves were running under me and occasionally bursting over the shallow sands. As I rounded the beacon, I gybed the poled-out jib onto port tack, and then had to steer most carefully to keep the boat running true in the long entrance channel with waves running up behind me. Occasionally, a nearby wave would partially break unexpectedly with a sudden hiss; they reminded me of a class of unruly school children.

Once inside I pumped out a bit of water and hoisted the mainsail for a fast run up to Itchenor in the F5 wind, arriving at 17.30 - a speed of 3 knots overall. I made just one mistake on the way up the harbour, in front of an audience as usual - I forgot to release the preventer when gybing and got the mainsail aback. Luckily I just avoided a capsize.

Perhaps readers will consider the Mirror a little small for cruising, and I notice a trend to larger dinghies for cruising. However, Alan Earl made his historic passages between Poole and Chichester in a 10 foot dinghy and proved it was possible. One advantage is that the boat can be pulled up a beach if necessary; another is that a single crew has sufficient body weight to keep the boat under total control. The Mirror may seem a bit tippy, but this is greatly improved by carrying about 100 lbs of stores as ballast. When sleeping to one side of the boat the heeling angle is only 5 degrees. However, always avoid placing your body weight outside the perimeter of the water line.

Of the many modifications I have made to the boat, my top safety suggestions are:

Efficient reefing system (Arun Sails at Bosham modified my sails). Twin topping lifts. Plenty of “ballast”. Mast head flotation (about 5 to 10 pounds displacement - a gallon of air).

Finally, let’s hear something from the little cruisers! Get that Mirror fixed up properly and get the spray flying!